Logical
by mentally-tabled
Summary: The line between love and hate is too thin for Raito's tastes. It's logical, though- she's sure it is. And she hates L. That's the only reason they do this; because they have needs. Not because of silly things like emotions. Then, though, why does her chest hurt? (Fem!Raito/L, nearly but not quite PWP)


**Don't own Death Note. Nope.**

* * *

It was logical. That was all it was, she knew it- base human instincts and hormones. There was no other reason why she'd let that bastard L pin her against the wall, her fingers clawing at the solid metal and her toes scrabbling automatically for a hold on the floor that was always just a few centimeters away- why she'd let that bastard L _fuck_ her, hard and strong and _deep_.

Why she'd writhe back against his chest, gasping and freely moaning and unresisting when he'd curve a hand around her neck- just enough for her to feel the threat, his _power_ over her in that instant- and pull her even closer, forcing her spine in a tight arch that made his cock rub against _all _the right places.

Raito's scream echoed off the tall walls of the observatory-type room, the lights of the computers cold and the only source of illumination, and she twisted and bucked, her soft brown hair flying around her head as she thrashed- "Raito-chan is so pretty, uncontrolled like this," L murmured in her ear, husky and deep with just a thread of smugness nobody else would catch.

She craned her head back and to the side at a painful angle and _snarled_, teeth flashing in the dim blue light and eyes gleaming malevolently.

It was logical, she told herself, to go to L as soon as the others were gone, to twist her hands in his mane of messy black hair and growl at him and _kiss_ him, _hard_ and full of hate and rage and _lust_\- because she _hated_ L, hatedhated_hated_ him and nothing else even if Ryuk laughed and taunted.

An arm wrapped around her trim waist, forcing her to grind down into him as he stilled, and she hissed and twisted to try and make him start again. But he didn't, and _damn him_ she knew what he wanted-

"Will Raito-chan be a good girl and show her manners?"

His voice was quiet as always, but there was _weight_ in it that he only sometimes showed, and Raito glared up into his eyes as he _slipped out_ and stepped back, letting her catch herself and shove herself up before she could collapse to the ground, murder on her mind and hatred simmering hot. "Damn it, L-"

He _smiled_, tilted his head to the side, disheveled hair only making him harder to resist jumping- to strangle or straddle, she didn't quite know herself- and his reply made her _snap._ "Kira-chan's come out to play," he _crooned_. "How fun!"

Her fist was flying toward his face before he could blink and she anticipated his easy dodge, twirling out of the way of one of his impossibly powerful kicks and jabbing an elbow into his midsection hard enough to make him grunt even as a hand was darting into her hair and _pulling_\- Raito slapped the inside of his wrist _hard_, danced back, dodged and blocked and punched as lust and fury alike _seared_ through her veins in equal measure, a high she rarely even achieved from using the Death Note in mass quantities making her quick and agile and more enraged than she'd ever be able to feel about someone other than _L_.

But L had been trained longer and harder than she had, was more cold and calculating than she could ever be even with her countless masks covering her rampant emotions, and she was indignant and struggled but ultimately resigned when he finally succeeded in pinning her over the couch's back halfway across the room, bruises blooming fresh on their faces and their sides where they'd both failed to dodge unpulled strikes. Her arms were twisted up behind her back, her hair tangled and hanging over her head, and she kicked back at him only to be deftly avoided as he slid between her legs and pressed his still-standing arousal up into her cunt. She stilled, toes curling irritably, and hissed up at him when he bent fluidly over her and rested his chin in the crook of her neck. "Mm, Kira-chan, _manners."_

Raito snarled and jerked and fought to wrest free of his hold, but L was unyielding and she subsided after nearly another minute, panting, the _throbbing_ area between her legs even more soaked than before. "...Not fucking Kira," she grumbled as a matter of habit, and let her head fall down limp. "Damn you, Ryuzaki."

L's lips quirked slightly against the skin below her ear.

"Please," she muttered, as quietly and blandly as possible.

"The humming of the machinery is rather loud at night, Raito-chan; I couldn't quite catch that."

At least he hadn't called her Kira again. Bastard. "Please," Raito gritted out at a more normal level, and she could _feel_ her pride wilting.

A hand slid against her, skimming down her side and in between them- he positioned himself and she braced her muscles in preparation, because once L decided to let her have it he'd _let her have it_\- and L chuckled softly, warm breath brushing over her neck.

Raito shuddered- and then he thrust _in_ in one smooth motion. She gasped, twisted up against him, and fought to call of it _logical_, as she didn't resist in the slightest and he rammed into her again and again and _again_ and her orgasm sent a howl _tearing_ out of her throat, sent spasms rippling through her toned muscles while he grunted slightly and held her down..

Because of hormones, because she _hated_ L or Ryuzaki or whatever his true name- that name she couldn't find- was, and he of all other people was the only one to keep up and even pass her. The only one anywhere _near_ powerful, mentally and physically, she'd allow close enough to dominate her, however temporarily, like _this_.

Because the line between hate and love was so hair-thin that Ryuk cackled in the background.

Yagami Raito, or Kira, _hated_ L with all her heart- because the alternative option would mean her downfall, capture, and death for such silly things as _attachment_.

Afterwards, just like the times before, she trembled on the couch, _him_ slumped on the other side seemingly oblivious to how sweat was gleaming over his paper-pale skin, to how _deep_ his unfathomably black eyes were as they traced over her equally sweaty body barely a foot away like she was one of his beloved slices of cake. Just like all the other times, she slumped down to the cushions eventually and let her head fall against his bare, subtly muscular thigh.

Just like all the other times, Raito ignored how his clever, dexterous fingers slid over her head to play with her hair after a few minutes, untangling and straightening and scratching lightly against her scalp- carefully, as if she was a wolf that could snap at any moment and bite the affectionate hand feeding it, yet still confident enough that he didn't hesitate in the slightest.

Just like all the other times, Raito contemplated how she would kill the man beside her for daring to evoke such feelings and sensations in her. How she would _kill L_, find his name and take control of his mind and make him _pay_ for all the trouble he'd caused her machinations, how many complications could've been avoided with his death before he'd become such a… a _nuisance_.

Just like all the other times, Raito pushed away the ache in her chest, squeezed her eyes shut so that the bitter hotness behind them- _the electronic light and adrenaline and anger_, she explained clinically to herself, but it didn't quite stick even though it was a perfectly valid reason just like with all the other times- wouldn't show in the slightest.

Just like all the other times she carefully, carefully, didn't think about her side-classes in psychology, where the teacher had diagnosed emotions and the brain and how narcissists- _Kira is God_\- were particularly prone to aggressive reactions to what they loved.

* * *

L sighed, leaned his head back, and curled his fingers tighter in the sleeping young woman's soft hair.

There was an 82% chance that Kira would do their level best to put him in the ground within the next month, as he was their main and most dangerous target at the moment.

...One more month with Raito-chan. With the only human with a 91% Kira-probability.

(He tried not to think about her reactions to calling her by that name- the breathtaking fury, the skyrocketing unleashed aggression, the _acknowledgement_ of that title as a _name_ from his lips.)

He should've listened to Watari, and not let emotions hold sway over his actions toward the utterly fascinating and deadly Yagami Raito. There was a 56% prospection that, if in the event Raito-chan_ was_ proved beyond doubt to be Kira and L was given the opportunity to remove the mass-murderer from the word, he wouldn't be able to complete the job.

17% that she'd kill him before he worked up the nerve. 19% that he'd shoot her instantly.

The remaining tiny 8% was centered around death-faking, quite a lot of sex, and the betrayal of his duty to hunt down and remove Kira from society.

* * *

**As always, R&amp;R. Thanks. **


End file.
